by Autumn Avery
“You’re not Joey’s wife,” I say bitterly. Her lips twist and she cocks her head to the side like she wasn’t expecting me to say that.
“Oh, no? Why’s that?”
“You’re not his type.”
“And you are?” She laughs, eyeing me with even more condescension than I thought possible. All I can do is glare back at her, wishing my eyes shot lasers like Superman and I could turn her into a pile of dust at my feet.
“I guess he’s also not the father of my child then,” she continues, almost like a question, but more of a jab.
My eyes go wide like dinner plates, and she laughs at my expression. “Of course he didn’t tell you. So like Joey. Always a mystery. Always full of surprises. But you know that, don’t you?”
“You’re lying,” I spit back at her accusingly. Even after all the things I’ve gone through with Joey, this is something I cannot believe. A secret child? With this woman? I know Joey has been keeping things from me, but he would never keep something like that from me. He’s not the kind of man who would run out on his child either.
I shake the thought from my head, trying to remind myself that I know Joey, that I know the kind of man he is. But there’s a little piece of me that keeps reminding me that I don’t really know him that well—that I never did. Katarina seems to be relishing in my internal struggle. It must be written all over my face.
“Doesn’t matter if you believe me, sweetie,” she says with a smile. “Just tell me where he is.”
There’s something scary about this woman, and the way she holds herself with such an intimidating confidence, almost like nothing I say or do really matters. She’s here for one thing: answers. And if I don’t provide them—well I don’t want to know what happens.
“I don’t know,” I tell her. From the look on her face I can tell she doesn’t believe me. “Really, I don’t. He left me at the airport. I don’t know where he is. He’s probably still in Paris.”
Katarina stands and begins to pace about the room, flicking a fingernail against her palm. I can see the wheels in her brain turning. Her eyes flick to me, analyzing me, trying to see if I’m lying. There’s nothing I can do but stare back. Nothing I say is going to make a difference with this woman. She has to decide for herself. When I see the look come over her face, I already know what she’s going to say.
“You’re lying.”
“I’m not,” I reply quickly. But she simply shrugs and moves to the front door. As she pulls it open she turns back to me. “Either way, we’ll get what we need.”
Two suited men the size of giants rush into my home and snatch me by the arms. Their grips are strong as vices, and there’s no hope in escape. I wriggle and thrash futilely as they drag me toward the open door.
I try to scream, but one of them slaps an enormous hand over my mouth and stifles any sound. My feet scrape the threshold as they pull me into the night.
A black SUV is parked out front at the curb, and the men drag me to it. Another man steps out the passenger seat and opens the back door. I’m literally hurled inside and skid across the slick leather seat to slam into the other door. The two men pile in behind me. I look up to see Katarina take the wheel and hear the tires screech as we peel off down the block.
A pair of handcuffs click around my wrists.
“Sorry, miss,” one of the men grunts beside me. “But this is necessary.”
He slides a hood over my head and the world goes dark.
The car ride goes on for what feels like forever. I manage to picture where we’re heading in my mind, following the turns as we take them, but I lose any sense of where I am after we pass the high school. The road turns to gravel for a long way, and when we finally come to a stop, I feel a set of rough hands grip my arms and pull me from the vehicle. They keep the hood over my head as they lead me somewhere. It’s hard to breathe, and the air has a thick, dusty feel that makes me cough. There’s also a sour metallic smell like we’re in some industrial area. The ground is rough and loose beneath my feet, and I stumble several times as the men drag me along.
There is a horrible screech of metal against metal as some kind of large door opens, and I’m led inside. There’s a loud clank and the sound of bolts sealing behind me, and then the hood is removed from my face. I open my eyes to pitch black. I look around, trying to find something to focus on, but there’s nothing. I can’t even tell if I’m alone or surrounded by people.
Finally, a loud bang from below and a whine of electricity as banks of fluorescents kick on above me, illuminating the empty hangar I find myself standing in. I see I’m surrounded by four suited men who look like ex-MMA fighters. Katarina sits casually on a table stacked with piles of money and powder in plastic bags. I suddenly realize just how much trouble I’m in.
But Joey will come for me. He saved me from those men in Paris, and he’s not going to let anything bad happen to me…
Right?
But Joey doesn’t even know I’m here. Joey put me on a plane from Paris while he stayed behind. How could he possibly come to my rescue? The better question for right now is—
“What do you want?” I shout across the hangar floor at Katarina, who yawns lazily.
“Please don’t shout,” she says, waving a hand in my general direction. “We’ll have to gag you, sweetie. No one can hear you, of course. We’re way out of town. But it is quite annoying.”
“What am I doing here?” I say through clenched teeth.
“Oooh, she wants answers, Derek,” she says, standing up and tilting a head toward the largest man in the group, sporting a tattoo of a scythe on the side of his neck. He grins back at her, obviously under the spell of her seductiveness. “I guess there’s no harm in giving her some. She’s not going to live to tell anyone anyway.”
Fear grips my chest, and I feel my stomach twist into one big knot.
Not going to live?
What is this? I’ve never done anything to anybody, especially not to people like this. What do a bunch of criminals want with me?
“Please,” I say, feeling the panic flood through my body, coursing in with the rush of adrenaline. “Don’t hurt me. Why would you hurt me? I don’t even know you!”
“We’re not going to hurt you, Mia. Not unless you start screaming again. You’re just bait, sweetie,” she muses, pacing forward toward me, extending a finger and brushing the tip of my nose. “Bait for your little boyfriend.”
My head is racing, and I feel sweat forming on my forehead and against my palms.
“You mean…Joey?”
“She’s catching on!” she cries out, clapping her hands together theatrically.
“What do you want with Joey?”
“We just want him back,” she says so matter of fact. “And you just happen to be the easiest way to get him.”
Back?
She said back. Does this have to do with Joey’s disappearance? Is this where he was for six years? But it couldn’t be…Joey’s not a bad man. He’s not a criminal. Is he?
The realization of how little I know about Joey washes over me as I look around. I have no way of gauging what Joey is or isn’t like these days. Suited men with guns, this woman, obviously dangerous, flanked by stacks of money and drugs. How could Joey be possibly wrapped up with these people if he wasn’t one of them?
“I guess Joey never told you about his past,” she says, almost as though she can read my mind. She steps close to me, so close I can smell her perfume—some combination of flowers I can’t distinguish. “Doesn’t surprise me. He’s not exactly an open book.”
Suddenly, one of the men puts a hand to his earpiece. He hears something that sends him running to Katarina’s side. He whispers in her ear, and she signals the men.
“Okay, here we go, boys,” she says commandingly. I hear the sound of guns loading and safeties flicking off as she struts past me to the door. “Open it up.”
A guard at the door presses a red button, and the hangar door slowly creeps open, the fami
liar sound of metal against metal echoing through the space. A beam of light from inside spills out into the dark, and I see a pair of shoes standing in the driveway. I recognize them instantly.
“Joey!” I scream, but I feel a rough hand cover my mouth before I can get his name out. The door opens all the way, and there he is. Somehow, even facing all these men, Joey still looks like the man in charge, like the world can’t possibly move him no matter how hard it tries. He eyes Katarina with familiarity and contempt as he steps forward into the hangar, his shoes slapping against the concrete slab floor.
He passes the men, not even giving them the time of day. His gaze comes to me, and I see something like sadness or regret is hiding in his eyes.
“Welcome home!” Katarina says joyfully.
“I’m not home,” Joey says coldly, never taking his eyes off me.
“Well, you certainly look like it,” she says, moving in front of me, blocking Joey’s view. I look about, seeing the six men standing in a semi-circle around Joey, all massive and all armed to the teeth. For him to come waltzing in here, he has to either be bold or stupid, or have some kind of a plan. Joey isn’t stupid. He may be confident, but he has never struck me as bold or brash, so he must have something up his sleeve. I hope…
My heart is racing like I’ve run a marathon, and my cuffed wrists are slick with sweat as I struggle against them. But it’s no use. There’s nothing I can do without the key.
“I’m here for Mia,” Joey says coldly to Katarina. “And that’s all.”
A soft chuckle escapes her lips, and I can see her body shaking as she laughs.
“You’re here for Mia!” she exclaims, waving her arms in a spectacular fashion above her head. “See, that’s funny! I was going to say maybe you were here to bury the hatchet. You were here to come back to your home. You were here to bring us back all that money you stole from us! Come on, Joey. Where’s that backpack you always carry around with you? Did you leave it outside?”
Katarina’s demeanor has taken a turn for the worse, and her voice is suddenly filled with an anger that is impossible to disguise. She paces away from Joey, circling the room like a predator. But he doesn’t move. He just stands stoically in the center of the circle of men while Katarina paces around him. His eyes find me again, and this time I see something reassuring, something that tells me everything will be all right. Even though I have no idea how, I feel a sense of security come over me.
“I told you I was leaving, Kat,” he says coldly. My head is spinning. He does know her, and the way he’s speaking to her…so familiar. Could it really be true? Could this woman really be his wife?
“Oh, you say a lot of things, Joey,” Katarina says, moving behind him, tracing a line across his neck with a fingernail. “How are we supposed to know when you’re serious and when you’re not?”
“I didn’t just say it, Kat. I did it. I left. And I expect you to understand that. I’m not coming back.”
Katarina seems so amused as she eyes Joey, almost like she’s toying with him. Joey’s eyes fall on me again. “Are you okay?”
I can only nod, my throat dry from nerves. Joey eyes the men around him, advancing slowly like they expect him to do something, their hands I see now on gun holsters at their waists. They must have seen what Joey is able to do if they’re this prepared.
“Why did you leave us, Joey? We were such a team, you and I.”
“No we weren’t,” he says quickly, venom in his voice.
“How can you say that?” Katarina says, a look of fake surprise on her face. Everything about her is calculated, manipulative. She stops in front of Joey, both hands on her hips, tossing her jacket back and exposing her pale, slender shoulders. “We were great together!”
“It was all a lie. A relationship is built on trust. We never were, and we never could be.”
My heart sinks at his words. So they were together. And maybe they are still married. Could that be what he didn’t want to tell me? What he couldn’t tell me? That would explain everything. Joey ran off six years ago, and he didn’t come home because he found someone else. He got married, had a child, then something happened…they had a fight, and he came back to Stonehill to reminisce.
Immense sadness washes over me as I realize what I am: just an affair, just a side piece to his real life, and this woman standing in front of me, tall and dark and dangerous, this is his real love—his wife, and I will never have a place in his life.
“It wasn’t all a lie,” she says, stepping close to him and bringing her lips to his neck. His eyes never leave mine as she leans in and kisses him.
In the blink of an eye, Katarina is flying backwards through the air away from him, and Joey is spinning toward the closest man. His hand arcs out and connects with the man’s throat, dropping him like a ragdoll. A man behind Joey lunges out toward him, but Joey spins and cracks his cheekbone with a back fist that sends the man to the floor.
The next man closest to him pulls his gun, but Joey slaps it away. It goes off, cracking loudly, echoing through the warehouse before scattering away across the floor. Joey kicks the man hard in the knee and follows up with a fist to the jaw. The man lands in a pile on the floor.
Two men draw their guns and take aim on Joey, but he grabs the last man by the neck and puts him between them, holding him like a human shield. The men struggle for a better angle, but Joey snatches the gun from his captive and aims it directly at Katarina.
“Drop it!” he shouts. The men look to Katarina, who is picking herself up off the ground. She stares back a Joey like a cornered animal. If looks could kill. She gives her men a sinister sidelong glance but nods. The two men look pissed as hell, but carefully place their guns on the floor.
“Let her go. Now,” he orders, nodding in my direction.
“Joey—“ Katarina begins, but he snaps at her.
“Now! And don’t try anything. You remember how good a shot I am, don’t you, Kat?” Aiming the gun at her. Her eyes narrow into slits as she retrieves the handcuff key and moves toward me. “Slowly!”
Both hands raised, she backs toward me, Joey still aiming the gun at her. Besides the electronic buzzing of the lights above, her boots clapping against the hard ground are the only sound in the hangar. Slowly, she reaches into her pocket. Joey raises the gun at her as a warning.
“Just getting the key,” she says, producing a small silver key for the handcuffs. She moves to circle around me, but Joey cocks back the hammer of the gun.
“Stay in front of her,” he says in a threatening voice. “No tricks.”
Katarina’s face twists with anger, and it’s then I notice the black military knife hidden in her waist band. She was going to use that on me, and Joey knew it! How is he this capable? I can’t help but think back to that day at school and his fight with Brad. It seems like ancient history at this point, and that Joey couldn’t be further away from the one standing in front of me now.
The key slides into the lock and the handcuffs spring open. I’m free. Katarina stands before me looking defeated as I toss the cuffs aside. They clatter to the floor, and Joey, still holding his captive, starts backing toward the hangar door.
“Back! All of you!” he shouts to the men, waving the gun in their direction. “Hands up!”
They can only comply with his demands and raise their hands, backing away as he makes his way toward the hangar door.
“Mia! Come on!”
I turn to Katarina, who looks like the top of her head is about to blow off with an explosion of steam.
Not so tough now, I think, eyeing her up and down.
She is pretty, but would Joey have really gone for her? I can’t believe this is what’s on my mind right now, but it’s all I can think about when I stare at her. She looks right back at me with contempt, and something rises up inside me that I’ve never felt before, and I swing my arm with everything I’ve got and slap her on the face.
Her head jerks to the side, and I make sure I’m smiling when she
turns to look back at me.
God, that felt good.
“Mia, come on,” Joey says, almost at the door. Police sirens fill the air, and I can feel the men behind me start to shuffle around, panicked and ready to run. I give Katarina a wink and make my way to Joey’s side. The sirens are growing louder, and I can hear the sounds of engines growing near. The men are right on edge, ready to bolt.
“Nice to see everyone!” Joey exclaims, taunting them with a smile as we step outside. He releases his captive and plants his foot in his back, kicking him forward and sending him tumbling into the hangar. The rest of the men scatter like fleeing insects.
I hear gunshots.
“Joey!” I shout, adrenaline coursing through my body.
“Come on!” he says, grabbing my hand and pulling me into the night. The ground outside is rough and I stumble as he leads me into the darkness. More gunfire. Joey trips and curses, stumbling to regain his footing.
“Where are we going?” I shout.
“This way!” His voice sounds strained and heavy.
Suddenly, the inky black landscape is illuminated by flashing red and blue lights streaking through the air as a fleet of police cruisers come over the hill, their lights beating down on us as we run.
Joey pulls me hard off the dirt road and, and we race through a labyrinth of broken down tractor trailers and pickup trucks. The cop cars scream by at full speed, sirens blaring, kicking up an enormous cloud of dust as they roar past. My heart pounds like a hammer, and I’m so full of adrenaline I can hardly feel my legs as they propel me forward into the night.
“Up here!” Joey shouts. I feel rocks under my feet, and we climb quickly up a small embankment, reaching the top of a hill. I turn and see an army of policemen spill out of their cars, guns drawn. The wind whips through my hair, and I watch as they move into the hangar. For a moment, everything is silent.
Then the night is filled with the sounds of gunfire. It sounds like thunder striking close by, each loud crack sending a frightened jolt through my body. I feel Joey’s strong arm around my waist, feel the comforting warmth of his body against the cold air, and I look up at him, my eyes begging for answers. I can see the pain in his eyes, but I know that we are now safe. I’m safe with him.
